Nin Chronicles: My Greenleaf
by Jaya Avendel
Summary: It started out so sweetly . . . Now Lord Katar is back for revenge. His wrath is terrible and his tortures cruel. The hurt Thranduil and Legolas endure during their imprisonment tear apart their souls. Who will save them? And, if they are saved, how will they recover from their experiences? WARNINGS: Graphic torture, inflicted on adults and elflings. Second in the Nin Chronicles.
1. An Old Punishment

Thranduil paced up and down his room anxiously, his hands clasped behind his back, his eyes on the grandfather clock. Ten minutes late. That was understandable. Little elflings sometimes were distracted. Twenty minutes late. Legolas surely must be on his way home now. Thirty minutes late. Thranduil's heart ached with worry. Forty minutes late. Thranduil panicked and dispatched half a dozen scouts to find his son. Thirty five minutes ticked by.

The door creaked open. A small face rimmed by blond hair peeked in. Thranduil sprang from his chair. "Legolas! Thank the valar! Are you injured?"

Legolas inched into the room, sneaking a glance at the clock. Oh! He was an hour and fifteen minutes late! Ada would be furious. He shifted uncomfortably, dreading the punishment he was sure would come.

"No, ada," Legolas said in a small voice. Thoughts of a whipping floated through his mind unbidden. His gaze drifted to the belt hung over the back of Thranduil's armchair. It had a _huge_ silver buckle on it. "Am I—am I to be punished?"

Thranduil followed Legolas's gaze with a sinking heart. His eyes too fell on the belt. The belt had belonged to Oropher but it was his now. He never wore it. It evoked painful memories. Thranduil looked back at his young son. He sat down on his bed with his feet on the floor and said, "Legolas, come here. I have a story to tell you."

Legolas sat down at his father's feet, glad the punishment had been put off for now. He rested his head on Thranduil's knees. Thranduil's gentle fingers stroked his hair as he told an otherwise brutal tale.

* * *

Thranduil slipped into the meeting room, his footsteps quiet on the wooden floor. He was more then late to the meeting and he knew it. Oropher looked at him coldly from the head of the round table. "I see you finally decided to join us, Thranduil. The meeting is almost over. Please come up to my room after the meeting is done."

"Yes, my lord," Thranduil said, slipping into his seat with his head bowed.

After the meeting finished, Thranduil dragged his unwilling feet up to Oropher's bedroom. Dread filled his stomach and sickened his heart. He drew in a deep breath and knocked on the solid oak door of his King's room. Oropher would scold him. He hated it when Oropher yelled at him; he felt small and afraid.

"Come in."

Thranduil turned the doorknob and entered the room. Oropher turned toward him from the dressing table.

"You missed most of the meeting, Thranduil," Oropher said with icy sternness.

Thranduil kept his head bowed. "Goheno nin, my lord. I did not pay attention to the time while I read. It will not happen again."

"I know it will not happen again and this will help you remember. Hold out your hand."

Thranduil obeyed.

Oropher brought the doubled over belt down repeatedly on Thranduil's hand. Thranduil cried out but stood there in shock. Oropher had never hit him before.

"Now the other hand," Oropher said.

Hesitantly, Thranduil held out his second, trembling hand. Oropher brought the belt down even harder, leaving behind cruel red marks. This time tears slid down Thranduil's cheeks.

"Go to your room and do not be late to dinner or your punishment will be worst," Oropher said.

Thranduil walked out of the room. His hands burned. Out of his father's sight, he fled to Harune's room and buried himself in the elf's arms.

"Are you hurt, Thranduil?" Harune asked, pressing the shaking elfling to his chest.

Thranduil sobbed, clinging to Harune's shirt. He held up his abused hands for Harune to see. Harune drew in a sharp breath.

"How did this happen?" Harune asked, rubbing ointment into the red marks.

"O-O-Oropher punished me for missing the meeting," Thranduil stammered, tears slurring his words. "He whipped them with his belt."

Harune frowned. "I see. Have no fear, Thranduil, I will make sure he does not strike you again."

Thranduil nodded. He loved Harune with all his heart and trusted his words of reassurance and guidance.

* * *

Thranduil ended the story and looked down at Legolas. "What have you learned, Legolas? Have you learned something?"

Legolas nodded, the color gone from his cheeks. "Yes, ada."

"What have you learned?" Thranduil asked, his voice soft. "Do not be afraid to tell me."

* * *

 **I wonder what Legolas could have learned?**

 **Short first chapter, I know, but I thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed the precious time you took to read this.**


	2. The Forbidden Grove

Legolas stood up. His eyes met Thranduil's with a pleading expression. He tore his gaze away from his father's and crossed the room. He stretched out his hand and picked up the belt from the back of the armchair. He walked back to his father and held out the belt.

Thranduil took it, wondering what Legolas meant by giving it to him. A sudden thought struck him and dread filled his heart. Surely Legolas did not expect him to strike him? After all he had tried to show his son how much he loved him?

Legolas held out his hands. "You can punish me now, ada." He squeezed his eyes shut and turned his face away, a slight tremor running through his body.

Thranduil dropped the belt, filled with dismay. How much time would it take before Legolas believed he would never hurt him? He reached out and captured his son in an embrace, drawing the elfling into his lap. "Oh, Legolas, no. My sweet, little leaf, never, never, never would I strike you. How could I, when I love you so much?"

Legolas curled into Thranduil's arms; a few tears sliding down his pale cheeks. "I-I am sorry. But I thought from the story, you were going to do what your father did to you . . ."

"Oh, Legolas, that was the wrong moral. The story was meant to teach you I am here to protect you from harm. I do not blame you for what you thought; the presence of my father in the story might naturally have brought you to the wrong conclusion."

Legolas looked up, his face breaking into a soft smile as Thranduil wiped away his tears. "I am sorry I was late. I did not mean to upset you, ada."

"I know you would never do that, Legolas. And I am not angry with you. What were you so engaged in you forgot about the time?" Thranduil asked, kissing Legolas on the cheek, tasting slight traces of salt.

Legolas lowered his eyes, a slight smile tugging at his lips. "I met someone while I was building my tower of stones, so we built a whole caste together."

"What is the name of your new friend?"

"His name is Landion," Legolas said. "We went to the kitchens for a snack before we finished our castle. And when we were done, it was late."

"I see. Well, next time please try to remember to come home on time. I was afraid you were hurt." Thranduil hugged his son tight.

"Goheno nin," Legolas apologized.

"It is all right, Legolas. Tomorrow you can take me to visit your new friend."

"I do not know where he lives," Legolas said. "I forgot to ask. I will ask when I see him next."

"Good idea. Now it is your bedtime."

"May I have some dinner first, ada?" Legolas pleaded. "It is a long time since lunchtime."

"I would not wish for you to go to bed hungry, Legolas," Thranduil exclaimed.

"Not even as punishment?"

"That would depend. Come eat."

Celebrail come into the chamber with a tray of food. Harune was away visiting his daughter in the Iron Hills for three months. Before he had left, Harune had taken great pains to train his apprentice to take his place until he returned.

"My lord, it is with deepest regrets I must inform you the scouts were unable to find your—" Her eye fell on Legolas and she stopped.

"My son found me," Thranduil said with an easy smile. "You may leave the tray on the table and tell the scouts my son is safe."

Celebrail nodded, depositing the tray on the round table to the left of Thranduil's bed. She left the room with a small bow, the skirt of her green robe swishing around her slender ankles, her hazel hair flowing down her back like a cloak of silk.

Legolas slid off Thranduil's lap and ran to the table. Thranduil sat down opposite him. Dinner consisted of a heaping salad, two sandwiches, a bowl of pudding, and two slices of cake.

"You eat the sandwiches, I will eat the salad, and we will share desert," Thranduil said, digging into the salad.

"There is only one spoon for the pudding," Legolas said, biting into his salad.

"A minor problem," Thranduil replied.

Celebrail reentered the room with a handful of letters. The envelopes were all marked urgent. Thranduil looked at Legolas. His son was immersed in a world of his own, staring dreamily into space. Thranduil took the letters and opened them. Most of them were bills and reports filed by his commanding officers. The last one caught his attention.

"Valar!" Thranduil exclaimed in horror, forgetting Legolas was in the room. "A child has gone missing. How dreadful. Landion—"

"Landion?" Legolas interrupted, forgetting his manners.

Thranduil shot his son a stern glance. "Please let me finish reading, and reserve your comments for afterwards."

Legolas's face turned crimson and he dropped his head, murmuring, "Sorry, ada."

Thranduil returned his eyes to the page. "Landion Ashwood, age; nineteen human years, hair; black, eyes; green. Last seen with his aunt in Mirkwood a week ago. Ashwood? Ashwood! Celebrail, this is—this is not your son, is it?"

Celebrail nodded, his pretty face lined with worry. She opened his mouth to speak but tears welled up in her blue eyes and she turned away, struggling to control herself. Tears would shame here before her king.

Thranduil dropped the paper and rose to his feet, almost knocking over his chair. "What happened? I am a father; I understand how you feel."

Celebrail did not turn around as she spoke. "My sister took Landion out on a woodland expedition. They were going to stay with a friend of ours a few miles away for five days so I did not begin to worry until yesterday. We searched and searched but we could not find a trace of them, so I-I filed the report."

"You might have told me," Thranduil said.

"I have told you. I did not wish to bother you until I was sure of my facts."

"Sure of your facts! Come sit down, Celebrail." Thranduil guided the sobbing elleth to his armchair by the empty hearth. She sank down and cried into her white handkerchief.

"I am so afraid, my lord. What if he is dead? What if spiders or wolves . . ." Celebrail shuddered.

"I am sure Landion is not dead," Thranduil soothed. "Legolas met your son today."

Celebrail's head jerked up. "Where? When?"

"In the forest," said Legolas, coming to stand beside his father. "I was playing near the forbidden grove."

Thranduil's heart jumped. Legolas had forgotten to mention that. He laid a restraining hand on Celebrail's shoulder. "Wait until tomorrow before searching for your son. It is dark out and the forest is dangerous near the forbidden grove. I will send scouts with you."

Celebrail nodded. She rose to her feet. "Thank you, my lord. Your words mean much to me." She hurried from the room.

Thranduil drew in a deep breath and turned to his son. "You went near the forbidden grove?"

Legolas hung his head. "Yes, ada."

"Even after I have told you many times not to?"

"Yes, ada," Legolas said in a trembling voice.

"I am very disappointed with you," Thranduil said, folding his arms over his chest and glaring down at his cringing son. "That place is full of evil. Many, many elves have wandered in, enticed by illusions and charms, and never come out! Never, never, never go near it again or I will punish you."

Legolas let out a soft cry, the plaintive wail of fear.

"I will not beat you, Legolas, nor will I whip or spank you, but I will not allow you to go outside until I trust you again if you disobey me," Thranduil warned.

"But Landion," Legolas began.

"I do not care. You are not to look for him or go near the forbidden grove. Do you hear me?"

"Yes, ada," Legolas said meekly.


	3. Gone

**To those who are sensitive, there is a scene of torture after the horizontal line. It is not terribly bad, but do not read it this disturbs you. You have been warned.**

* * *

Thranduil paced the floor of his bedchamber, his hands clasped behind his back, his eyes fixed on the smooth face of the grandfather clock. It was not Legolas who was missing again, thank the valar. No, Legolas sat on his bed, watching his father pace with anxious eyes.

Tick, tick, tick.

The clock's ticking further agitated Thranduil, marking each passing second, filling the atmosphere with something dreadful, adding tension to the air. The world was waiting for something but nobody knew what.

Tick, tick, tick.

Thranduil glared at the clock. Eight o' clock in the evening. Celebrail had been gone all day now. He refused to admit to himself he had made a mistake waiting all day for the elleth to return, and also that he knew where she must be.

Celebrail had gone to look for her son, against his wishes.

Tick, tick, tick.

Thranduil summoned two of his palace guards. "Have either of you seen Celebrail today?"

"She left the palace this morning, sir. She said you had given her the day off."

Thranduil waved the guards away and sank down in his armchair with a sigh. Lying, disobeying her King . . . the things a mother would do for her child!

"Are you well, ada?" Legolas asked.

"Yes, quite well," Thranduil said, his mind elsewhere.

Thranduil figured Celebrail must have found her son. She was probably with him right now. On the other hand, she could be lost or hurt. In order to set his heart to rest, Thranduil ordered a group of six scouts to search for Celebrail and her son. He dispatched a messenger to Celebrail's home in case she was there.

The messenger came back the following morning to say Celebrail was not home. The Mirkwood scouts reported a daily to say their search was unsuccessful.

Thranduil worried. What had happened to Celebrail? Perhaps it was time to see if Legolas knew where Landion was. Leaving the palace, Thranduil hurried to the palace gardens. He found Legolas sitting on a wooden bench, his lap full of peas, crunching down the green vegetables with a happy expression.

"Have you seen Landion?" Thranduil asked, picking a few peas from Legolas's alp to eat.

Legolas swallowed and shook his head. "No, ada. I have not seen him in two days."

Thranduil sighed and sat down on the bench next to his son. The bench faced a row of pretty red and white and pink flowers with curling, overlapping petals. Bees and butterflies fluttered among them. Behind the bench, a row of low bushes ran the length of the flowers, creating a leafy wall. Behind it, the vegetable beds were laid out.

"Is something the matter?" Legolas asked, eating the last of the peas.

"Celebrail is missing," said Thranduil.

"Is she dead?"

"I hope not," Thranduil said. "Death is something I would rather keep out of this wood."

Legolas leaned against his father in silence. The mention of death brought to the air tension. In a small voice, he said, "I hope she is okay. And Landion as well."

Thranduil wrapped his arm around his son and drew Legolas into his lap. He kissed the top of Legolas's soft head. "Me to."

* * *

The whip cracked across her raw back. Celebrail winced, clenching her hands into fists around the chains that held her on her feet. The chains hung from the celling, linked to the shackles on her wrists. She hung, barely standing on her feet, her arms suspended above her.

The whip came down again. Celebrail moaned. Her shoulders and back ached. Blood dripped from the cuts, sliding down the inside of her dress and soaking into the cloth. Spots danced in front of her eyes.

Lord Katar circled the captive elf, smiling. "My men are no where near done with you, she-elf! Neither am I done with you dear, precious little son!"

Fear welled up inside Celebrail, twisting her insides. "Please do not hurt him."

Lord Katar gestured to the man standing behind Celebrail and the whip slammed into her back. Lashes rained down on her shoulders. The whip curled, hissing as it came down. The cuts on her arms and legs were many. Her back was raw, covered in shredded flesh. Each blow sent pain spiraling through her body. She struggled to stay conscious but the agony drove her further into darkness. Lord Katar held up his hand and the torture stopped. He grinned at Celebrail, grabbing her chin.

"Once your pathetic son had fulfilled the tasks I will give him, my men will tear him apart before your eyes."

"No!" Celebrail choked. "Please do not do this. Let my son go. I will do anything!"

Lord Katar laughed as he left the dim cave, leaving Celebrail hanging limply against her chains. Tears streamed down Celebrail's face, trickling down her chin. She looked at her sister, chained to the wall to her left. Lairceil raised her bruised face to look at her sadly.

"He would not harm Landion, would he?" Celebrail asked in a fearful voice.

Lairceil said faintly, "He would torture the child to death and enjoy it."

Celebrail closed her eyes. The thought of Landion tortured tore at her heart. Lord Katar would not . . . but all hope seeped out of her heart. Lord Katar had already whipped Lairceil to within an inch of her life. He was a man without pity, a man who lived off pain. All Celebrail could think of was Landion dying in agony, with no one to save him.

"What does he want from us?" Celebrail asked.

"He wants revenge," Lairceil answered. "He wants to punish Thranduil and Legolas for what they did to him."

Celebrail's eyes widened. The nightmare had grown worst. The things Lord Katar would do to the King and the little prince! Especially to the little prince . . . she closed her eyes and asked the valar to keep Thranduil and Legolas safe.

"The horrors here are unspeakable," Lairceil said in a sorrowful voice, her eyes on the floor. "I pray you will be spared the worst of them."

Celebrail's stomach lurched.


	4. Taken!

Legolas raised his head from his father's lap. Thranduil's fingers left his forehead. Legolas sat up and peered curiously into the woods around him. A pale face peeked out of the trees, rimmed by midnight black hair.

"Landion!" Legolas cried. "We have been looking for your everywhere! Come meet my ada."

Landion swallowed. He slipped out of the trees and fidgeted, his eyes on the grass below his feet. "Y-you must not come near here. It is dangerous. And you must stop looking for me."

Thranduil's brow furrowed with concern. "Why? Have you been hurt?"

Tears brimmed up into Landion's green eyes. "Yes. In many ways. You must leave _now_ before _they_ catch you! Run!" His voice rose to a hysterical scream.

Two human men leaped from the tress behind Landion. They grabbed the elfling by the arms. "You dirty rat! You will pay for your near treachery!"

Landion hung his head. He looked up at Thranduil, tears streaming down his face. "I am sorry. You should have listened to me. Now he will torture you to!"

Thranduil's body tensed. Turning his head, he glanced over his shoulder. Half a dozen humans were ringed around him and Legolas, crossbows pointed at him. His hand tightened on Legolas's small one. It had been a trap, and Landion the distraction.

"One move, mighty King of Mirkwood, and the boy dies," one of the human's warned. His companion twisted Landion's arm behind his back until the elfling cried out in pain. The pain in his tortured green eyes made Thranduil's heart lurch. He realized he was helpless, and unarmed. The woods so near the palace were safe. He had never dreamed anyone would dare try and abduct him so close to home.

Rough hands grabbed his arms from behind, jerking Legolas's hand from his. Tight ropes were wound around his wrists and jerked securely. Thranduil cursed himself for falling into this trap. He was not worried about himself, but he feared for his son. He heard Legolas whimper and looked down. The humans had tied his son's wrists and the ropes were cutting into his flesh. Thranduil closed his eyes. What had he done? Legolas came first. Legolas should not be be suffering. He should have cut his losses and fled . . . the humans would have shot both of them down.

A gag was stiffed into his mouth from behind with such force Thranduil almost choked. His eyes grew moist. The humans gave Legolas and Landion the same treatment to keep them silent. Surrounding their captives in a close ring, they shoved them through the woods, keeping their eyes open for danger.

Thranduil realized he knew where the humans were taking him. They were traveling toward the Forbidden Grove! His heart sank; his warriors would never dream of looking for him there. Unless . . . Thranduil stopped walking with his usual elven grace. His feet snapped over twigs, and his shoulders snapped thin branches from the trees he passed.

"Silence!" the humans hissed. They were taking careful steps over the forest floor to hide the traces of their passing.

Thranduil obeyed for a few minutes, and then returned to his activities, hoping the trail he left would be enough for his scouts to pick up on.

The Forbidden Grove came into sight. Mist swirled around the trees, hiding them in greenish fog. Red and pink and white lights danced in the fog. The luring shapes of woman waving veils, beckoning and singing sweet songs were dim in the mist, retreating back as the humans and their captives delved into the honey-smelling mist.

Thranduil's head whirled. His sense were devastated by the sweet songs, the shapes of beautiful woman, and the many enticing smells around him. His eyelids felt heavy and he struggled to keep them open. Mist swirled around him, melting from color to color, taking on the shapes of his happiest dreams, and immersing him in the embrace of deadly bliss. He noticed the humans did not seem daunted by any of the Forbidden Grove's alluring illusions and dangers. He would have fallen asleep and never woken up, joining the bones littering the ground beneath the mist, but the humans dragged him on.

The party broke out of the mist, into the center of the grove. Mist swirled all around them and before them a tall hill rose up. In the center of it, a gaping hole led down into the earth flanked by two humans in metal armor, holding spears with tips of black metal.

The world was plunged into darkness as the humans shoved their captives into the hole. A tunnel led into the earth, its light dim. Cobwebs covered the ceiling and the floor crumbled. The tunnel ended at a three-way intersection. A tunnel ran left and right. Ahead the tunnel ran on, opening out into a wide cavern.

Thranduil's head cleared as he walked, having left the mists behind. He had survived the Forbidden Grove and come to this mysterious place, but could he survive the tortures waiting ahead?


	5. Tortured

**Warning: This chapter contains a torture scene involving an elfling; do not read when Lord Katar enters the cell for the first time if you are sensitive. You have been warned.**

* * *

Thranduil and Legolas were jerked to a halt outside the opening to the cavern.

"Permission to enter, your lordship?" one man inquired.

From within the cave came a grunt.

The humans shoved their captives into the cavern. Flickering torchlight illuminated the room, and a man stood facing the wall opposite with his back to his men. His black cloak rippled and his greasy hair hung in tendrils.

"We captured Thranduil and his brat, your lordship," said the captain of the men, bowing to one knee.

The man spun around, his black cloak billowing out behind him. He laughed, malice embedded in each hollow chuckle, and his eyes glittered. "Wonderful! The dawn of my day has begun!"

"Lord Katar!" Thranduil hissed.

Lord Katar grinned, running a hand over Thranduil's smooth cheek. Thranduil recoiled in disgust, held firm by the arms of the men behind him. Lord Katar slapped him. "Yes, it is I. I never left your petty forest. I have remained her, waiting for my revenge! You will not die easily, son of a spider!"

Legolas, though he had displayed no fear before, began to tremble. Lord Katar grinned down at the elfling. "Hello, princeling. I am happy to see you again!" His fist connected with Legolas's cheek. Tears welled up in the soft blue eyes but Legolas made no sound.

Lord Katar snarled, "You will suffer like no one has suffered before! and when I am done with you, and your precious ada, you will be on your knees begging me for a death I will never grant!"

Legolas flinched but refused to let his tears fall. Thranduil's blood boiled at the sight of the red mark on Legolas's cheek.

"Take them to the cave," Lord Katar said. "Bind them with their friends. I will come later to here their screams."

Thranduil and Legolas were wrestled out of the room and dragged up the hall, down the intersection to the left. The humans holding Landion joined them. The tunnel ended at a solid metal door set in the stone. A solider unlocked the metal grate and pushed it open.

"Naneth!" cried Landion. He fore himself away from his guards and ran to Celebrail lying on the floor. He dropped to his knees beside his mother. Bruises covered her face and bare arms. Bleeding whiplashes scarred her back. She looked up at Landion with a teary smile and brushed a hand across his cheek. She dragged herself upright and held onto her son with the last of her strength. Landion buried himself in her embrace, weeping, "I am sorry, naneth. All my fault . . ."

Thranduil tore his eyes away with an aching heart as cold chains bound his hands to the wall behind him. Thranduil could not bear to see the heavy shackles on his son's small wrists. He looked at Legolas with pain in his eyes. Legolas met his father's gaze, fear screaming in his eyes. Then it fades, replaced by a coldness Thranduil had never seen before.

The humans left the cell, slamming the door behind them. The occupants sat in silence for hours. Dread filled the air and weighed down on everyone's heart. Thranduil did not want to imagine what Lord Katar would do to Legolas but horrible possibilities floated through his mind. He looked up as the door creaked open. Lord Katar and six armored guards entered the cell.

"Bring Legolas to me," Lord Katar said, jerking the whip out of his belt.

A human approached Legolas. Through his helm, his face appeared young and clean-shaven. He avoided Legolas's eyes as he unshackled the elfling and dragged him into the center of the room.

Lord Katar circled the still, tense elfling. "All your bruises have healed, I see. Well, it is time we fix that!" With unexpected brutality, Lord Katar brought the whop done across Legolas's ankles. Legolas tripped, stinging pain shooting up his legs, and collapsed to the floor. He curled into a tight ball, his body remembering the cramped position well from his early years with the man. The whip tore away the cloth on his back, then laid open the flesh beneath. His blood trickled from the cuts, cool against his hot skin. Each whiplash caused pain to ravage every nerve in his body yet he remained silent. He bit his teeth into his arm and sucked on the trickle of blood the cut created, concentrating on it rather then the pain. Screaming would please Lord Katar and Legolas would not give him one second of satisfaction.

Lord Katar let the whip fall across Legolas's back with a sharp crack. He took a break, panting, sweat standing out on his brow. With a grunt, he kicked Legolas between the ribs. "Stubborn fool! Grab him and pin him down!"

The same young guard, his eyes wide with horror, and an older man with cold eyes grabbed Legolas's wrists and ankles. Legolas struggled but the grips of the humans were strong and he found himself held down against the floor. His eyes met the pained eyes of the young human in front of him. Seeing pity he did not want, he pressed his cheek to the cold floor and waited. He knew what would come.

Lord Katar raised the whip. Without anything to bite his teeth into, Legolas struggled to keep his mouth closed. The pain built within him, tearing at his self control, and the blood loss made his head spin. His body wanted to move and flee the pain but it was held down. Tears coursed down his cheeks, wetting tendrils of his hair. The whip curled and sliced across the tip of one ear. Legolas let out a sharp cry and the world faded into blackness.

Lord Katar let a smile grace his cruel face. He strode out of the room with his guards, leaving Legolas sprawled on the floor in a puddle of his own blood. His refusal to utter threats made the heavy silence worst for no one knew who would be next.

Legolas raised his head from the floor and forced his trembling body to his hands and knees. He crawled to his father and dragged himself into Thranduil's lap. He huddled into his father's chest, trembling, his hands curled into fists. His pain seemed to fade slightly in the soothing presence of his father. Pretending to faint had always worked for him. And Legolas happened to have experience in the art of fainting convincingly. But it took all his courage to pull the trick for there had been times when Lord Katar had seen through the stunt and his wrath had been terrible.

Celebrail was vomiting again. Her sister lay still, her wrists fastened to the wall, her eyelids drooping. Landion sobbed, unable to take in what he had seen moments ago. The noises of grief and suffering drove Thranduil to despair of ever seeing light again. He could not hug Legolas to him for his wrists were chained to the wall but he could keep his peace. Legolas stopped trembling and listened to the soothing sound of his father's voice in his ear, murmuring elvish songs.


	6. Pain

**Warning: Scenes of torture beginning after the horizontal line. Do not read if you are sensitive.**

* * *

Thranduil's eyes swam back into focus. Legolas lay asleep in his lap. Celebrail and Landion were snuggled together against the wall. Lairceil's eyes were closed as she slept, slumped against her shackles. His ears pricked up, catching snatches of the conversation between the guards outside the cell door.

"—Seem right," said a young voice. "He is only a child. Lord Katar has gone to far. I know he knocked the boy around a little back at home but he never did this—did he?"

"He came close to it," replied a deeper voice. "We have no choice but to follow his orders, Rueben. You will do better to obey him or you will die."

"If he orders me to hold the boy down again, I would rather die," said the young voice of Rueben. A young face encased in a helmet peeked into the cell. He froze as his eyes met Thranduil's icy blue ones. "Mordor, he heard us! What will we do? If Lord Katar learns of this . . ."

"Fool," scoffed Rueben's companion. "Elves sleep with their eyes open."

Rueben shuddered and looked away from Thranduil. Thranduil let his lips curve into a smile. Foolish human.

* * *

The cell door clanged. Lord Katar strode into the cave. With his whip he pointed to Thranduil and Lairceil. "Bring me those two."

Four guards slid past Lord Katar. Two of them approached Thranduil and unchained him. They dragged him into the center of the room and fastened his wrists into the shackles hanging from the ceiling. Lairceil stumbled to her feet, pale and dizzy. Her guards shoved her into the center of the room. Lord Katar shoved his whip into Lairceil's hand, his lips drawn back over grinning teeth. He pointed to Thranduil, "Whip him."

Lairceil cast a desperate glance in Thranduil's direction. "Forgive me, my lord. Never would I do this willingly." Her eyes were empty, her spirit broken. She took a step toward Thranduil, then whirled and attacked Lord Katar with the whip. The whip struck Lord Katar's face, slicing the skin. Blood oozed down the man's face. Lord Katar let out a scream of pain, his hand flying to the hilt of his sword. Lairceil's body jerked as the blade plunged through her chest.

"Useless elf!" Lord Katar snarled, ripping his blade from the elf's chest. She fell to the floor, blood pooling on her bosom. Turning, the human laid into Thranduil with the whip. Thranduil gasped as the searing agony shocked his nerves, the whiplashes spreading fire through his body. He closed his eyes, forcing himself to think of things beside the pain. But the pain held him in a tight grasp, tormenting his mind. Thranduil clenched his hands into fists, enduring the short but intense flogging in silence. Lord Katar soon ran out of breath.

Doubling over, Lord Katar gasped for breath, leaning his hands on his knees. The whip dripped blood to the floor. He straightened with a grin. Blood stained his teeth, trickling from the cut on his face. As he departed from the cell, he said, "The worst is yet to come for this is but the beginning."

Thranduil swallowed. What could be worst then this? His heart ached for the murdered elf lying at his feet, her pale face shattered. His heart throbbed with fear for Legolas. He wished to die and leave this harsh reality behind. With a small sigh, he slumped against the chains pulling at his wrists.

For two days lord Katar let his prisoners dwell in growing dread. Their pain grew with each passing hour. The anticipation of the next torture was a crushing weight squeezing the life from each elf. Lairceil lay and bled her blood into the dirt floor until not a drop remained. Thranduil tried to rest but he found it hard to sleep standing upright.

Thranduil jerked awake as the cell door creaked. Despair filled his eyes as Lord Katar walked into the cell, the angry red welt on his face inflamed with anger. Behind him came the young guard known as Rueben walked, carrying a bronze bowl of hot coals. In it rested three branding irons. Lord Katar pointed without a word to Landion. Two guards moved past him and grabbed the cowering boy, tearing him from his weeping mother's grasp. Brining him to Lord Katar, the humans wrestled the screaming elfling to the floor.

Lord Katar hummed to himself as he reached a gloved hand toward the handle of the closest branding iron and removed it from the bowl. He held up the red hot circle of hot iron at the end of the handle with a pleased expression. Circling Landion, he pounced, bringing the hot iron down on Landion's back. He held it, pressing it down. Landion writhed beneath the pain, the cloth of his shirt burning away. The hot metal pressed into his flesh, creating unbearable pain within him. Hazy colors ran before his eyes. The pressure on his back faded and he sobbed with relief. His relief turned to horror as another hot iron came down on his back. He screamed, twisting. Lord Katar's boots stood by his face, hateful imprints of the cruel man standing above him. Landion moaned. Lord Katar finished the job with the last branding iron. His strength gone, he emitted pathetic sounds that were music to Lord Katar's ears. Lord Katar's boots walked away.


	7. Shattered

**Warnings: More torture present. Do not read if your are sensitive.**

* * *

"Will we ever escape this place?" Thranduil wondered desperately. "I cannot let Legolas die here." He looked down at his son. Legolas slept fitfully, his breathing ragged. Hunger gnawed at Thranduil's stomach. He strained against his chains but all he succeeded in doing was bringing the dull pain in his back roaring back to life. Defeated, his closed his eyes and tried to sleep.

"Rise and shine, sleeping beauties!" Lord Katar cried, marching into the cell. "Another grand day has dawned! And with it comes some fantastic new ideas!"

Thranduil groaned. At his feet Legolas awoke with a jump. He cowered at his father's feet. Lord Katar smiled, kicking Landion out of his way. He approached Thranduil. "So strong, so proud. You refuse to be broken. But I, elf king,, can break even the strongest of souls. And today I will break you!"

Two guards approached Thranduil and unshackled him. Thranduil stumbled dizzily. A firm hand held him as another guard grabbed Legolas by a handful of his dirty blonde hair and chained him in Thranduil's place.

Lord Katar pressed the whip into Thranduil's hand, whispering in his ear, "Now flog your precious little son. Shatter the trust between you."

"No!" Thranduil cried, recoiling in horror.

Lord Katar smiled with pity in his eyes. "Come now, do as you are told, elf king. If your refuse to do as I say, I will give Legolas to my men to do to him as they will."

Thranduil swallowed. Legolas cried out, jerking against his shackles as though he knew the unspoken horrors hidden in Lord Katar's words. "No! No! Please beat me, ada. Please. I beg of you to do it. Please!"

Legolas's words pierced Thranduil's heart. He could not believe what he was hearing. No child should ever have to be heard begging his father for a beating. Legolas _wanted_ to be whipped if only to avoid a far worst fate. With unwillingness in every step, Thranduil approached his son. Legolas's back was already sore with whiplashes and bruises. To have to cause him more pain . . . his own son! An ugly image floated through Thranduil's mind. If the only way to protect his son from wickedness far beyond words was to whip him . . .

"I am sorry, little leaf," Thranduil whispered. He brought the whip down on Legolas's back. "SO sorry." His eyes regarded with horror the ugly welt the whip left behind. He felt his heart tear in his chest.

"I know you are, ada," Legolas gasped, shuddering under the force of the blows. "I know you are." Tears streamed down his face, and his heart burned with hate so strong he had never felt it's like before. He hated Lord Katar for making his kind, gentle father to do this to him. Legolas's wrists began to slip I the shackles for they were made to hold grown men, not slender elflings. He collapsed on the floor, his back burning. Thranduil dropped the whip and sank to the floor, his face pale and splashed with Legolas's blood.

Lord Katar smiled, retrieving his whip. "And so the mighty elf king is broken." He turned on his heel and marched from the room.

Legolas crawled to his father and nuzzled into his arms. Thranduil wrapped his shaking arms around his son, feeling hot blood on his skin. "I am sorry, ion nin. I am sorry. My heart bleeds for you, Legolas. I am sorry. I truly am. Oh, valar, what have I done?"

"It is not your fault you had to hurt me," Legolas murmured. "Knowing you desired not to hurt me lessened the pain. I need you to be strong for me, ada. Please be strong for me."

Thranduil steadied his pounding heart with strength he knew not where it came from. He held Legolas to his chest, and his son rested, trembling with weakness and fear. He felt calm in his father's arms with Thranduil stroking his hair and murmuring soothing words in elvish. His eyes slipped close. Thranduil bit his lip. "Please stay with me, little leaf. Stay with me. We will not die here, little leaf. I will remove you from this foul place if it is the last thing I do."

Legolas murmured, "Ada, if you—if you cannot fulfill your promise, I will be happy because I-I will die with you." His voice cracked and tears welled up in his eyes. He clung to his father, weeping, "I do not want to die, ada. I do not want to die! I am so scared."

"Everything will be all right," Thranduil said without conviction. He rocked his son. "You will not die, Legolas, I promise." He held Legolas closer, burying his son's grief in his chest. His voice trembled as he began to sing in soft elvish, knowing Legolas found the sound soothing. Legolas's hands clutched fistfuls of Thranduil's hair as he forced his eyes closed on fresh tears. Thranduil's sorrowful gaze met Celebrail's grieved ones over his son's head.


	8. A New Dawn Rising

**Finally, no warnings! Your hearts can rest.**

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Harune stared in distress at Hyrondal. "What do you mean, missing? It cannot be so! Five elves have disappeared and you cannot find them?"

Harune gestured wildly with his hands as he spoke. He had returned from his visit to the Iron Hills to find Mirkwood in pieces. It did nothing to fulfill his expectations upon returning home. He had been looking forward to a warm hug from his son and Legolas's bright eyes. Not this disaster!

"You misunderstand, my lord," Hyrondal protested, his face tight with worry. "We know where the missing elves are, due to a trail we found after the king and prince disappeared. But we cannot rescue them."

"Why not?" Harune demanded.

"They are in the Forbidden Grove," Hyrondal explained.

Harune leaned back against his horse. Upon dismounting outside the palace doors, Hyrondal had accosted him with the bad news. He was still in travel garb, and now feeling faint.

"It makes no difference," Harune said with determination, straightening up. "I cannot leave my son in the grip of evil. I will brave the mists of the Forbidden Grove alone for I cannot ask any of you to risk your lives for me or my son."

Hyrondal bristled. "I beg your pardon, but I respect the king as much as you love him. I will gladly place my life at his feet. I would rather risk my life with you then stand by and do nothing. I saw how much Legolas changed Thranduil. And wherever they may be suffering together, I want to help end it."

" _Valar, thank you for giving me a good son and a wonderful leader,_ " Harune thought, " _Not many would be so willing to risk their lives for their king._ "

Aloud, Harune said, "I am grateful for your help. We will leave immediately with whoever else is willing to help us."

"I know the elves under my command are as loyal to the king as I am," Hyrondal said, gesturing to the armored, apprehensive elves behind him.

"We have little time to waste," Harune said, raising his chin. "We leave now for the Forbidden Grove. If any if you wish to stay behind, I will not force you to come."

None of the gathered elves spoke. Spears in hand, they followed Harune into the forest on foot. Harune's tired guard dismounted and headed toward the palace, their hearts aching with worry but too tired to help recover their king, if he lived.

The woods were silent and every leaf crunched with loud noise. Hyrondal pointed to the snapped sticks marking the trail that had led him to the Forbidden Grove. Harune could imagine Thranduil brushing against the braches and stepping on the sticks as he walked, in the grasp of whatever evil had him.

As the white mist of the Forbidden Grove came into view, hiding the trees in white fog, the party of elves stopped. Even Harune hesitated, his courage failing him as he eyed the mist that had taken many elves and never given them back. He looked at his nervous companions, seeing they were as nervous as he. The mist swirled around the trees, alluring shapes visible in it. Beautiful voices drifted out of the mist, tearing at the elves' will to stay back.

Harune let himself to drawn forward. At the edge of the fog he stopped and looked back at his companions. He drew the sword from the sheath at his side and plunged into the mist. His mind remained clear; at the end of the mist, somewhere ahead, was his son and Legolas. He had to rescue them. To fail was not an option he had.

Hyrondal glanced at his men before he too stepped into the mist. His feet crunched over . . . bones? He shuddered. Behind him were the dim shapes of his men and ahead he could see Harune moving with determination in every stride. Squaring his shoulders, he prepared to face the evils of the Forbidden Grove and fight the deadly fog swirling around him. Without doubt, it would be the most fierce fight of his long life.


	9. Death Waits Around The Corner

Thranduil looked up as the cell door creaked open on its badly oiled hinges. Two leering men entered the room, their eyes on Celebrail. Landion shrank back into his mother's arms, his eyes wide, whimpering.

Thranduil looked away as the men grabbed Celebrail by her wrists and dragged her toward the cell door. Legolas shuddered in his arms, shaking at Landion's screams of protests. Leaving the elfling sobbing on his knees by the locked gate, the humans hauled his mother away.

Thranduil held out an arm to Landion. Landion crawled to him and nestled against him and Legolas, silent tears sliding down onto his curled fists.

"Will she come back?" Landion asked in a small voice.

Thranduil was torn between the desire to say yes and set the elfling's heart to rest and to tell the blunt truth. But his hesitation told Landion al he needed to know. Burying his pale face in Thranduil's shoulder, he cried himself to sleep.

With both elflings in his arms, Thranduil sat and waited, his eyes closed. The weight in his arms pressed at his injuries, inflaming them with pain but it was a small price to pay for he knew his embrace brought the children in his arms at least a moment's comfort.

Thranduil's eyes jerked open as the metal grate creaked open. He sat tensely, not sure whether the humans had come back to thrown Celebrail's body into the cell or if Lord Katar had come to feed off screams. His stomach twisted.

A figure entered the cell, glancing behind himself, the torch in his hands casting eerie shadows throughout the cavern.

Thranduil hugged Legolas and Landion a little closer in his arms, his body trembling as the figure approached. He felt weak and helpless. He hated himself for hurting his small son and for being unable to protect either of the elflings he held. All he could do was sit and wait for Lord Katar's next torture, for the pain and grief and despair and, at the end, blissful death. Legolas slept in his arms, his breathing shallow, and his bruised face a reminder of the abused elfling Thranduil had found months ago.

The flickering torchlight moved closer, illuminating the human guard beneath it. The human reached up as he neared the frightened elf and tugged off his helm, revealing the face of a young human. His drawn face held lines of worry and his eyes throbbed with pain.

"I want to help you," the human said. "My name is Rueben."

Thranduil's eyes met Rueben's anxious ones. He hesitated, distrustful of the human. He remembered Rueben had helped hold Legolas down while Lord Katar whipped him. But . . . surely he had to take any chance at life he could.

"I cannot be a part of this," Rueben said, his desperate voice trembling. "I was spun tales of victory and glory, of heroism. I-I did not realize it meant torturing children and forcing their parents to hurt them. You have hearts and mine ached when I was forced to hold your son down. I wish to help you escape and make amends for the wrong I have done."

Thranduil nodded. "I accept your help. But if our lives are endangered, you must promise me you will take the elflings to safety. My life is not important."

"I promise," Rueben said.

Thranduil shook Legolas awake. His son awoke, a shudder running through his body, and looked around, wild-eyed. He opened his mouth but Thranduil clapped his hand over it. "No noise. If we are to escape this place, we must be silent."

Legolas met his father's eyes and nodded to show he understood. Thranduil took his hand away and woke Landion. Legolas slid off his father's lap, jumping back at the sight of Rueben. He remembered the human's pained gaze from the whipping at the beginning of his torture.

Thranduil rose to his feet, a small groan escaping him as his aching body cried out for him to rest! Gritting his teeth, he ignored the pleas. Taking Landion and Legolas by the hand, knowing they felt no better then he, he followed Rueben to the cell door.

Rueben glanced at the dark, empty hallway beyond the cell door, his body tense. Leaving the torch burning on the dirt floor, for light would attract too much attention, he stepped outside the cell door. As Thranduil followed him, he felt his heavy heart lightened somewhat. At least he was free of the cruel confines of the cell . . . for now.

Rueben led the way up the dark hallway, forcing himself to check his hurried pace for the injured elves could not match his stride. At the fork of the tunnel, he glanced up and down the intersection. Finding it empty, he beckoned for the elves to follow him into the tunnel leading to freedom and the outside earth. He walked along the edge of the tunnel, his back against the wall, sidling sideways.

Thranduil felt the urge to sink into blissful darkness but he struggled to keep his eyes open. His body ached and every stumble Legolas and Landion made jerked at his muscles. His eyes flew open as Landion let out a small cry. He followed the elfling's gaze and his stomach heaved.

Celebrail lay at the entrance to the mouth of a cave in the opposite wall, her body stripped off clothes, blood dripping off her. From within the cave, ugly laughter floated out.

Thranduil saw fury bubbling in Landion's eyes. The elfling was ready to scream and cast himself on the humans who had killed his mother. Thranduil pulled his hand free of Legolas's, throwing both arms around the elfling to keep him from fleeing. He clung to the struggling boy, one arm wound tightly around his mouth to keep back any loud noises. Landion sobbed, his tears wetting Thranduil's arms. He stopped fighting. Cautiously, Thranduil took away his arm.

"We must be quiet, Landion," Thranduil said gently, turning the elfling around by the shoulders to face him. "If we want to escape and see the sun and trees again, we must escape. I am sorry your mother is dead, I truly am. But unless you wish to join her, you must be quiet. My heart bleeds with yours, Landion. But I promise you everything will be all right."

Numbed by grief, Landion clung to Thranduil's words, nodding dumbly. Clutching the elf's hand, he stumbled after him, continuing up the tunnel. He blinked as he saw a soft ray of moonlight lancing through the open mouth of the tunnel ahead.

Rueben stopped inside the mouth of the tunnel, looking out at the world beyond lit by dim moonlight.

"There are guards flanking the exit," he said. "We will have to run for the trees and hope for escape."

Thranduil swallowed. He feared his life would end during the wild dash for freedom, however short the distance to the trees may be. He doubted he could run far or fast in his condition. He looked up as a loud shout echoed through the glade outside and two figures fled from the entrance, yelling orders. Confusion broke out.

"The guards are gone," Rueben said, peeking out the tunnel. "This is our chance! Someone has attacked the glade. Run!"


	10. Escape?

The four companions fled from the tunnel, hearing shouts behind them. In the pale moonlight, Thranduil saw figures struggling together at the beginning of the mist. The steel of weapons glinted. Fleeing in the opposite direction of the fight, Thranduil grabbed Rueben's shoulder as they entered the mist bank, knowing without the human to drag him on he would sink into the mist and sleep until death. The drowsiness hit him again as the mist swirled around him, glowing with rays of moonlight but this time the tiredness was worst then before. His feet stumbled over the bones he could not see. He felt Rueben jerking him and Legolas and Landion along with urgency in his tugs.

Thranduil stepped out of the mist into clear air, the last tendrils of milky some sliding off the bloodstained cloth of his chest and dissolving back into the fogbank behind him. His head cleared and the pain in his body, dulled by the mist, roared back to life, tearing a small whimper from his lips. Beside him, Legolas's eyelids slipped closed and the elfling sank to his knees, his head rolling. He jerked awake as Thranduil fell down by him, his shaking legs refusing to take one more step.

"We cannot stop!" Rueben said desperately, glancing around himself at the shadowy trees.

"And I cannot continue," Thranduil said, fighting the darkness of unconsciousness threatening to drown him. "Escape with your own life, if you can."

From behind him a figure burst from the mist, sword drawn. Thranduil instinctively tugged Legolas into the sanctuary of his arms, willing to use his own life to protect his son. Even the threat of death fueled no strength in him.

With a naked blade, the figure drew nearer at a run, revealing himself to be Lord Katar armed not only with a sword but with a wicked sneer. Rueben's sword flashed into his hands but the young human was nervous. With a single swipe of his blade, Lord Katar disarmed the human and turned his full attention to Thranduil.

"You thought you could escape!" he hissed. "But no one escapes me! No one!" He raised his sword above Thranduil's head. "And now you die!"

Thranduil closed his eyes, his ears pricked up in fear for the swish of the sword, undoubtedly the last sound he would hear besides Legolas's small sobs. He heard a scream and glanced in confusion over his shoulder in time to see reuben retrieve his fallen weapon and cast himself on Lord Katar. Lord Katar easily disarmed the boy again, shoving him back. Rueben tripped over a tree root and sprawled on the ground, his eyes wide as Lord Katar approached him with his sword. Thranduil heard the sound of running feet.

Harune burst from the mist behind Lord Katar, his usually gently smiling lips drawn back in an angry snarl. His calm, peaceful eyes blazed with hate, and his tender hands held a sword blade. Moving past Lord Katar's attacks with deadly elven speed, his ducked the human's thrust and plunged his own blade deep into his heart. Lord Katar let out a yell, stumbling back, his sword dropping to the dirt. Without a sign of pity in his eyes, Harune cut off the man's head. Dropping the hilt of the weapon, Harune skidded to his knees beside Thranduil. His eyes riveted on Rueben and he began to rise.

"No, ada," Thranduil mumbled. "He helped us . . ."

As Harune turned back to look at him, the trees swam before his vision, moving far away until they were tiny dots. Thranduil blinked, his vision dimming as though his were going blind . . . Harune sounded far away as darkness slid over him. His pain faded into a dull ache and diminished further into nothing. He swam in a sea of black where he felt nothing and nothing mattered.

* * *

Thranduil cracked his eyes open. Everything before him looked hazy and noises sounded far away. He let his tired eyes fall shut. With his weak arms, it was difficult to hold his precious son to him. Legolas shook with fever and fear, moaning and voicing pleas in his fitful sleep. His weakened body still bled, as did Thranduil's, from injuries inflicted by past tortures.

Thranduil heard a hollow bang and the sound of screams. But he must be dreaming. The screams of his tortured son echoed in his head, haunting him. The noise seemed to grow louder. He heard the creak of the cell door opening with a loud angry crash that filled him with fear.

Lord Katar approached him with a cruel grin. A hand reached for him—no—Legolas. Thranduil cling to his son with all his strength, begging, "No! Please leave us to die! Let us die together. I beg you!"

Legolas was jerked away.

"No!" Thranduil howled. "NO!"

* * *

Thranduil's eyes flew open to dim light. Legolas! Oh, valar, Legolas! He struggled to move under the heavy weights crushing him, screaming for his son but a strong hand held him back. The voice yelling frantically sounded . . . familiar.

"Thranduil, please stop! Lie still! You are hurt and you will hurt yourself—Thranduil, ion nin, relax. Please relax. Know you are safe and with those who love you."

"Harune? Ada?" Thranduil croaked, his voice dry and rasping.

"Yes, yes, ada is here. Ada is here and you are safe. Lie back."

Thranduil let his tense body sink back into the soft pillows. He struggled to focus his eyes on Harune's blurry face. "My son . . . I want my son. Please."

"Beside you," Harune said softly, squeezing Thranduil's hand in his own strong grip.

Thranduil turned his head, pain exploding in his chest. But the price was worst it for the reward was the sight of Legolas's face on the pillow beside him, pale but alive, his gentle breath stirring the tendrils of hair beneath his face.

"Death came near to taking both of you from me," Harune said, his voice choked. "But I have been assured you will both live."

"Lord Katar?" Thranduil asked, needing to reassure himself the man had not risen from the grave.

"He is dead. We burned his body though he deserved worst," Harune said, his level voice bitter. He stood up and, leaning over the bed, tucked the blankets around his son and Legolas. "Rest now, Thranduil. When you are well, we will talk."

Thranduil closed his eyes with a sigh. He rested a hand on Legolas's forehead, the smoothness of his skin disrupted by swollen bruises, yet comforted by knowing his son lived.


	11. No Sunshine

"Are we dead, ada?"

Thranduil broke out of his doze. His hand stroked Legolas's cheek. "No, tithen las, we are alive and well."

"I am hungry," Legolas said, the pangs in his stomach confirming his father's words.

"Healer Jailil will be here soon with lunch," Thranduil answered. His body still ached but his need to hold Legolas close conquered his desire to avoid pain. He reached down and cuddled Legolas to his chest. Legolas shifted, his head a top Thranduil's heart. He listened to the soothing beats until he heard footsteps.

Healer Jailil and Harune walked into the room, each holding a tray of steaming food. Healer Jailil frowned at the sight of Legolas. He set his tray down on the small table at the foot of the bed and launched into speech. "You were told to lie still, Thranduil. Having Legolas atop you is not good for your injuries and may cause them to worsen. What is the matter with you? How can I be expected to heal you if you cannot learn to take orders?"

Thranduil sighed. Harune helped Legolas slid off him and sit beside him, propped against pillows. Harune sat down beside Legolas and fed him spoonful's of hot broth and meat. Still frowning, Healer Jailil shoveled food into Thranduil's mouth, muttering to himself.

Legolas ate hungrily, enjoying the peppery taste of the meat and the hot scent of the broth.

"Is Landion all right?" Legolas asked.

Healer Jailil and Harune exchanged glances over the bed.

"Landion lost his mother and aunt," Harune said at last. "He is having a hard time recovering emotionally, physically, and mentally from his experiences."

"Does he not have any other family?" Legolas asked.

"Yes, but only distant relations. We called his second cousin's grandson to help him accept his loss but he knows little of him, or his wife. They are not able to connect with him in any helpful way."

"Will he die?"

"I should hope not," Healer Jailil said, his voice tight. "Those are not questions you should be asking right now; your voice needs rest."

Legolas tugged on Thranduil's sleeve. "Ada? Is he—is Lord Katar dead?"

"Yes," Harune answered.

"Did you kill him?" Legolas asked.

Harune rose to his feet and picked up the empty tray. "Yes, I did."

Legolas sank into his pillows, sliding down a ways. He snuggled against his father's side, his eyes brightened by the knowledge death separated him from Lord Katar.

Harune left the room, followed by a tense Healer Jailil.

"I doubt you should have spoken of such dark things with Legolas while he is still recovering," Healer Jailil said low, sounding far from pleased.

Harune shoved his tray into Healer Jailil's arms as he heard a low sob coming from Landion's room. "Meanwhile, your patient needs comforting."

Healer Jailil deposited both trays into the arms of his nearest apprentice and hurried after Harune. Landion's small room contained a bed and table. Tears streamed down Landion's face. Leaning over him, a tall elleth and ellon tried to comfort him but Landion was beyond reach except from the gentlest touch, in a world full of grief and despair.

Harune slipped past both elves, noticing their pinched faces, and sat down beside Landion. Healer Jailil escorted the two standing elves out of the room, into the hallway beyond. He closed the door, leaving Harune to attempt to sooth Landion.

With a slight bow toward Healer Jailil, the elleth spoke. Her black hair flowed in rich rivers from her head, onto her bosom. Her low cut green gown set off her pale, lustrous skin, and wide, dark eyes.

"Healer Jailil, please forgive us, but we cannot look after the elfling." Her soft voice held sorrow but it was firm.

Healer Jailil's frowned. "May I inquire as to why, Nigella?"

Nigella hesitated, glancing at her frustrated husband.

"We understand he is family," she said. "But we have elflings of our own. Landion refuses to connect with us at all, and he resists our attempts at comforting him. He is beyond our help. You will have to find someone else. Landion does not like us."

Healer Jailil drew in a deep breath. "I see. I extend my gratitude to you and your husband for coming at my wishes, and for trying to help Landion. I will no longer require your presence; you are free to return home."

Nigella slipped her hand into her husband's. With a pained look on her face, she looked up into his eyes as they walked away. As soon as they were out of sight, Healer Jailil swore and kicked the wall, much to the shock of his eldest son, coming out of a nearby room with a bottle in hand. Without leaving his son to say a word, Healer Jailil fled to his office and snatched up the list of Landion's family members. With vicious strokes, he crossed Nigella and her husband off the list. He sank down in his chair with a sigh and stared at the list until Harune stepped into the large, carpeted room and closed the door behind him.

"Landion is sleeping," he said.

"I do not feel as though any of his family members will be able to help Landion," Healer Jailil admitted. "And I have not the heart to put Landion through the added pain of seeing every one of the persons on this confounded list. Neither do I wish to hurt them with the pain of not being able to help him."

"It is a difficult situation," Harune said softly. "What of his father?"

"Killed by orcs," Healer Jailil said promptly. "I tended to him myself but he was beyond help. I-I feel rather guilty about it, as though I owe Landion something for not saving his father."

Harune leaned across the desk and placed his hand over Healer Jailil's. "No fault rested with you. I will see what I can do about finding Landion someone who can connect with him."

Healer Jailil slumped in his seat as Harune stepped out of the room. The task seemed hopeless. Hopeless. The word echoed in his heart.


	12. Searching and Finding

**Many1001: Thank you so much for reading and taking the time to leave a review. I appreciate it very much. I agree with you on all accounts and I hope you continue to enjoy the story. Happy reading!**

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Landion opened his eyes to the same sight he had been seeing for days now; the beams of the ceiling above him. A sense of dread weighed down on his heart. Surviving each day in grief was hard. A tear welled up as he thought of his dead mother and aunt and trickled down his cheek. Their deaths were his fault! He had been the one who led Thranduil and Legolas into the trap. He had been the one whom his mother had come looking for, even when he had tried to warn her to stay away. It was his entire fault. He wished he had died with her, like he deserved to for what he had done. He deserved the festering wounds Lord Katar's branding irons had given him, and he deserved more. He deserved the pain he lived in.

The door to his room opened and Healer Jailil walked in with a bowl of warm water in one hand and a cloth in the other. He smiled at Landion. Landion knew what Healer Jailil had come for; the daily cleaning of the branded marks on his body. He wished he would be left alone, to rot. Without a word, he rolled over and let Healer Jailil do his work. He hissed as the wet cloth touched the wounds and clenched his teeth.

"Where is Nigella?" Landion asked in a forced voice, trying to distract himself from the pain.

"She has gone home," Healer Jailil replied.

Landion heaved an inward sign of relief. He had hated Nigella's pampering and Syron's concerned looks and questions. He was glad they were gone. All he wanted was peace and quiet, so he could die without trouble.

Healer Jailil finished his work and picked up the bowl of reddish water and the stained cloth. With promises to be back soon, he hurried out of the room.

Landion buried his face in the pillow, hoping Healer Jailil would take his time. An overwhelming sense of fear attacked him. He did not want to die. He wanted to live. He wanted someone like his mother he could hold onto and trust for comfort. But no one knew how he felt and no one could offer him the love he needed for no one else had been through Lord Katar's tortures. Silent tears soaked his pillow.

He looked up as soft footsteps crossed the floor to his bed. Harune sat down beside him and smoothed the damp hair from his forehead with a kind smile. Landion looked up at him before he hid his face in the pillow again to muffle his tears.

"Is Legolas all right?" Landion asked finally. "And Thranduil?"

"Yes, Harune answered. "Both of them are fine. They are resting together."

Landion's lips trembled as he thought of Legolas, sleeping happily in his father's arms. He had not lost anyone. He still had someone to love and cuddle him. He remembered Thranduil holding him and Legolas after Celebrail had been taken away. Thranduil's arms had been nice, and his presence strong and calming. A thought flashed across his mind; Thranduil knew how he felt. Thranduil had suffered with him. Thranduil could help him.

"I want Thranduil," Landion began, raising his head out of the pillow to meet Harune's surprised gaze with desperation in his eyes.

Harune hesitated for barely a minute before he agreed to Landion's request. Landion rolled over and let Harune pick him up. He winced as Harune's arms snaked over his wounds and lifted him from the bed. Harune stepped out into the hallway.

From down the hall, Healer Jailil caught sight of him. The bottle slipped from his hand and crashed to the floor, where it shattered into crystalline green fragments amidst a pool of milky liquid. Slipping over the liquid, muttering and cursing, the elf hastened toward Harune, demanding with fury, "What _are_ you doing? Have you lost your mind?"

Landion looked up at Harune, pleading with his eyes for him to take him to Thranduil.

"Landion has asked for Thranduil," Harune said. "I believe Thranduil can help him more then anyone else can."

"Thranduil is injured!" Healer Jailil hissed. "He has enough on his mind already!"

Harune blinked. "My son has a strong body as well as he does a strong mind and heart. I am well aware Thranduil is injured but, if you will be so good as to add a small bed to his room, I am sure Landion will be more then happy to be in the same room as him."

Healer Jailil frowned. He looked at Landion and his resilience melted at the pleas in the elfling's eyes.

"Very well," he said grudgingly. "I will have a bed fetched."

Landion heaved a sigh of relief. Even if he could not be with Thranduil, he could at least be in the same room as him. Harune continued walking. As he entered Thranduil's room, the elf king looked up, his fingers still tenderly stroking Legolas's face. Landion swallowed.

"Landion would like to be with you," Harune said, his eyes meeting Thranduil's.

"I do not know if Landion can be in the same bed as me," Thranduil apologized. "But he can stay in the room."

"Healer Jailil is bringing a bed," Harune answered.

Healer Jailil marched into the room, directing the efforts of two young apprentices struggling with the bed they held. "More to the right—no—noo—left! Left! Straight—straighten it out, I said! Look out! Keep your voices down; this is a healing room! Left! Left! No, right. Yes, good. Set it down."

Grumbling, the two elves let the bed down to the floor in the position Healer Jailil desired. Brushing themselves off, they fled from the room before their mentor could find any other exerting tasks for them to perform.

Harune set Landion down in the fresh sheets of the bed and tucked him in against the pillows. Landion rolled onto his side to face Thranduil with a tired murmur of thanks to Harune. Within minutes, his red eyes slipped close.

"You see how much happier he is already?" Harune said to Healer Jailil.

Healer Jailil frowned. "Yes, quite so. You will have to look after him. That is to say, since you have gone through all the trouble of moving him here, he is your responsibility."

Harune smiled. The healer was tired and annoyed by his day. Taking the elf by the shoulder, he steered him out of the room, saying, "Come; what you need is a strong cup of wine."


	13. Faults

Landion opened his eyes to meet those of Healer Jailil. The elf leaned over him, straightening the twisted blankets. Landion shifted, licking his dry lips. He opened his mouth, realizing how thirsty he was.

"May I have some water?" he asked.

Healer Jailil handed him a glass of the refreshing liquid and waited for him to empty it.

"Are you hungry?" he asked as he took the water glass.

Landion nodded.

"Keep your voice down," Healer Jailil said, nodding with his head toward the bed where Thranduil slept, his eyes, ringed by dark circles, were closed in exhaustion.

Landion nodded again.

"I will be back in a minute," Healer Jailil said as he moved toward the door.

Landion lay back, his hands folded on top of the blankets. His intense misery had faded into a dull feeling within his heart and no longer required his attention. Being in Thranduil and Legolas's presence had helped him as much as he had hoped it would. A brief twinge of sadness tugged at him as he wished he could be closer to Thranduil but then realized he was lucky to have convinced Harune and the reluctant Healer Jailil to bring him here in the first place.

A single tear welled up in his eye as he thought of his mother's death, and all of his confused, self-condemning thoughts came swirling back into his mind. He tried to shove them away, desperation driving him, but the self-blame refused to leave him. A small sob escaped him and he buried his face in his hands, hoping he would not awaken Thranduil with his pathetic, tortured whimpering.

A hand touched his shoulder and Landion jumped with fright.

"What ails you so?" Harune asked, sitting down beside Landion. He slid his hand over the elfling's pale one.

"I-I-I do not know," Landion faltered. "Did I kill naneth? It was my fault! She came looking for me, and she died because of it. I tried to stop her. I really did. I killed her instead . . . I wish I was dead!"

"You must not wish for such things," Harune said sternly. "Celebrail's death was not your fault, Landion. You were used at the cruel whims of a wicked human. You did not kill your mother, Landion, the humans did."

"But if it were not for me, she would never have been captured," Landion said in a small voice.

"You had no control over what happened, Landion. You were trying to protect your own life. Celebrail's death does not lie on your shoulders, but on Lord Katar's."

Landion swallowed. "I wish I could have pounded his face in."

Harune smiled woefully. "We are elves, Landion, and such brutal violence is not our way. A clean death is more then anyone deserves."

Landion lowered his eyes, unable to express his feelings, hurt and chastened by the gentle rebuke at the same time. He wished Healer Jailil would come so he could eat. He fidgeted, feeling Harune's gaze on him. He glanced up and looked away as he met Harune's amused eyes.

Harune sensed the elfling wanted to be left alone so he rose to his feet and walked toward Thranduil's bed, glad to see his son still slept. His eyes rested on Legolas's face, nestled against his father's side, with a small sigh. He looked up as Healer Jailil entered the room with a tray of hot food.

"Your services are not required," the Healer said. "But I was informed you are needed in the office."

"Yes, yes," Harune said absently. "I came to assure myself Thranduil is well."

"If he were to take a turn for the worst, I can assure you, you would be one of the first to know about it," Healer Jailil said, looking at the door dismissively.

Harune took the hint and hurried from the room, back to the office bearing the scent of his son, and the desk covered in undone paperwork.

Landion watched Harune leave before he started to eat from the tray Healer Jailil balanced across his knees. The hot soup slid easily over his throat, and the herb bread was especially filling.

"Are any more of my family coming to see me?" Landion asked.

"They are all busy at the moment," Healer Jailil replied with a queer look.

Landion wondered what would happen to him as he tore off a chunk of bread and dipped in into his soup. Perhaps he would become an orphan if none of his family wanted him. He barely knew any of them. What happened to orphans?

"What will happen to me?" Landion asked in sudden dread.

"That is not for you to worry about," Healer Jailil said briskly. "You concentrate on healing. I promise you will be happy once you leave your bed."

"What happens to orphans?" Landion asked next.

"They find a new family to love them," Healer Jailil replied.

"But what if no one wants to love them?" Landion persisted. "What happens then?"

"In very rare cases, when none of the many elves in Mirkwood can form any connection with the elfling in question, it is the Healers of the castle's responsibility to look after them," Jailil said carefully. "They become wards of the castle. In some cases they train with the guards, or learn any of the other skills they are interested in."

Landion chewed on the last of his bread, thinking that was probably what would happen to him. "Is it nice to be a ward of the castle?"

"It is nicer to find a new family," Healer Jailil answered.

"Why? Do wards get punished?"

"Landion, I am sure you will not become a ward of the castle," Healer Jailil said in exasperation, though in the back of his mind he dreaded it might come to pass. "You are much to sweet to be ignored by the vast population of Mirkwood."

Landion's sad eyes met Healer Jailil's without any confidence. Healer Jailil picked up the empty tray and left the room, cursing the day any elfling had to lose everyone they held dear and be left with nothing. Why were the valar so cruel?

Landion closed his eyes and slept. He dreamed of being abandoned and forgotten by everyone, even the Healers. He dreamed of living alone, dying slowly without the love or comfort of anyone. He dreamed of a long, unhappy life, riddled with misery. He dreamed of being nothing. In one swipe, his happy life had been torn apart, leaving him drifting in darkness, his life in shreds unsure of being mended. He awoke with a jerk, bolting upright.

Sweat ran down his brow, but a cool hand was wiping it away. His wild eyes beheld the room as it whirled in circles. The dim light of a single candle flickered eerily. His gasping breaths calmed down as the room stopped spinning. He reeled dizzily and fell back into the pillows. Only then did he see Harune.

"W-what are you doing here?" he stammered, feeling his stomach lurch with sickness.

"I came to check on Thranduil and Legolas," Harune explained. "But you needed me more."

Landion let out a small moan and closed his eyes, hoping to conqueror the sick feeling in his stomach. He felt cold glass touch his lips, followed by the gentle touch of liquid. Harune slid an arm under his shoulders and helped him drink. He gulped the water, instantly feeling much better.

"Thank you," he said awkwardly.

Harune looked at the elfling anxiously, still holding the empty glass as he let Landion slide back into bed. He noticed the sickly color was beginning to fade from his face and he breathed more evenly. For a minute, it had looked like Landion was about to faint.

"You are more then welcome," Harune said, forcing the worried ceases out of his brow.

Landion's smile faltered. "Will you stay with me?" He asked meekly. "I-I does not—do not want to sleep alone."

"I think that is a good idea," Harune agreed, lifting a corner of the blanket and slipping into bed. He had been afraid to leave Landion, fearing the elfling might become sick and need help. Landion cuddled up to him, his breath warming Harune's chest. Harune put an arm around the boy and held him close, feeling as though Landion needed to know he was with someone he could trust.


	14. Lessons

Healer Jailil hummed a tune as he entered Thranduil's healing chamber, a little nosier then usual. For one thing, he knew all three occupants of the room were usually awake at this hour so he had no need to be extra quiet. He stopped, blinking in confusion as Thranduil put a finger to his lips and shook his head. His patient was relaxed against the pillows, running his hand over Legolas's head on his chest. Color was beginning to seep back into his thin cheeks.

Legolas lifted his head to look at Healer Jailil before he wriggled back down into his father's embrace, trying to touch as few of both their bruises as he could. Still, a wince passed over Thranduil's embrace, and Healer Jailil had a strong urge to scold the little elfling.

Thranduil used his head to indicate Landion's bed and Healer Jailil frowned as he eyed the bed. It looked a little more filled then normal. His eyebrows met his hairline as he realized not only was Landion still sleeping but he also looked happy and quite comfortable buried in the embrace of his lordship, Harune!

"I dare say the world is full of surprises," Healer Jailil remarked, but keeping his voice low this time. He added briskly as he approached Thranduil's bedside, "Now then, how are you feeling? Any nausea, nightmares, sickness, queasiness, aches, pains, or the like?"

"None at all, thankfully," Thranduil answered.

"And you?" Healer Jailil asked, turning his eyes to Legolas.

"Just tired," came the mumbled reply.

"Hmm, yes, and being spoiled during your exhaustion, without doubt," Jailil said, his eyes resting on Thranduil's hand stroking Legolas's hair. He cast a look at his King. "As for you, what have I said about resting?"

"This takes little energy," Thranduil objected.

Healer Jailil looked at the circles under Thranduil's eyes with a frown, and Thranduil sighed. He knew Healer Jailil was right, of course, but he felt more then guilty about whipping Legolas and he knew he had to do something to reassure Legolas he still loved him.

Healer Jailil swept out of the room to order a late breakfast for his patients.

Legolas looked up at Thranduil. "Are you tired, ada?"

"A little," Thranduil admitted.

"Then you should rest."

Thranduil gave in and closed his eyes. He was more then tired; he was exhausted. As sleep claimed him, so did nightmares. The word nightmares and his refreshed guilt lingered in the back of his mind, until his dreams turned his worst fears into a horrible reality. He awoke with a jerk, meeting Legolas's worried eyes. Cursing himself, he wondered how much of his guilty feelings he had revealed.

"Ada?" Legolas asked.

"I am all right, little leaf," Thranduil said. "It was a bad dream."

"But you were dreaming about whipping me," Legolas said, averting his eyes.

"Legolas, I am so sorry," Thranduil said desperately. "I hated every minute of it. I hated having to hurt you. Reliving it is my worst nightmare. What can I do to make up for the cruelty with which I treated you?"

"I dream about it to," Legolas said faintly.

Thranduil sat frozen, unsure of what to say or do. He knew how Legolas must feel, haunted by memories of the terrible moment. "Legolas, I-I—"

"I know you must be hurting inside," Legolas interrupted, tears brimming in his eyes. "I know it hurt you to whip me and I want to tell you it is all right. I am not hurting in my heart because I know you will never strike me willingly. But I can tell how much pain you must be in. It is all right, ada."

Thranduil stared down at his son in speechless shock. He hesitated, knowing there were times when Legolas doubted his word and asked if he was going to be hit. Legolas saw his face and said, "I know there have been times when I have not believed you. But now that I have felt you hit me, and I saw how much more it hurt you then it did me, I know you are telling the truth."

Thranduil buried his face in Legolas's hair as he hugged his son close to hide his tears. "Thank you, thank you, little leaf, for setting my aching heart to rest. I love you so much—words cannot express my deep love for you."

Legolas pulled back and wiped the tears from Thranduil's face. "You set my frightened, hurting heart to rest when I came to you for help. I cannot give you back all the love you gave me but . . ."

"I do not expect you to," Thranduil said, planting a kiss on his son's cheek.

Legolas's face widened into a smile as he threw his arms around his father's neck and hugged him tight, murmuring, "I wish I could."

"Right now we have to focus on healing," Thranduil said.

"I feel better already," Legolas answered.

Thranduil admitted to himself he felt better too. The heavy weight of guilt and dread had been lifted off his heart and the built up tension between him and Legolas was gone. With lighter air and complete understanding between him and his son, though his body ached, the pain was gone from his heart. And that made all the difference.

Thranduil glanced to his left as he heard rustling blankets. Harune appeared to have awoken. He smiled in amusement as his father stretched then stopped, probably looking around him in confusion.

"What on Middle Earth," Harune began, and then stopped as if struck by a memory.

"That is what I should like to know," Healer Jailil said, striding into the room with two elves behind him bearing trays of food. He noticed the color returning to Thranduil's cheeks, and his smile, and said, "You seem to be feeling much better."

"Indeed I am," Thranduil agreed. "In fact, I think I will be able to feed myself now."

"Let me know if you need any help," Healer Jailil said with a teasing grin as he gestured for the two elves to deposit the trays with Thranduil and Legolas. He glided across the floor and leaned over Harune, his hands on his hips as he demanded, "And what are you doing here, my lord, I should very much like to know?"

Landion stirred beside Harune as the elder elf replied, "I could not sleep last night from worry so I came to assure myself Thranduil and Legolas were all right. They were both fine but Landion was experiencing a bad nightmare. He woke up looking like he was about to faint or vomit, and he asked me to stay with him."

"And clearly you had no trouble obliging him," Jailil said, with an amused look at the bleary eyed elfling awake beside Harune. He gestured for his two companions to fetch another tray of breakfast.

"I will be sure to wake you up next time," Harune said as he slid his legs out of bed and rose to his feet.

The Healer's smile faded. He said quickly, "I never doubted you for a minute. In fact, if it is you Landion wants, I do not think I can possibly replace you. We all must do everything to make him happy."

A gentle smile lit up Harune's eyes, with a hint of malice in the curves of his lips. "I dare say. You will have to excuse me; I have work to attend to. Good morning, Thranduil, Legolas." With a small wave, he glided out of the room.

"He did not even bother to ask how we are feeling," Legolas said in disappointment.

"We are looking much better," Thranduil said, overflowing with energy and itching to leave bed but knowing his body would protest.

"But I like his sympathetic kisses," Legolas complained.

"One can tell you are recovering," Healer Jailil said, eying the elfling.


	15. He Wants What?

"My lord?" a voice hissed. "My lord Harune?"

Harune opened his eye with a groan. He forced his head off the pillow. He could make out a dim figure standing in the doorway of his room. He wondered what time it was. It must be the middle of the night!

"Yes?" he inquired.

"My name is Calais, and I am training to be a Healer. My mentor sent me to say you are needed . . . urgently, my lord. At once."

Harune hurled himself out of bed, flinging on his dressing gown the wrong way round. "Oh valar, oh valar, oh valar, please spare me this pain." Murmuring prayers, he dashed past the startled apprentice and rushed for the healing wing. "Not my son. Please not my son. Legolas . . . oh valar!"

Healer Jailil turned around as Harune skidded to an unbalanced halt in the room. He took in the elf's white face and wide eyes, and remarked, "Gracious, I never would have expected you to worry."

"What?" Harune snapped. "How could I not be worried? The ones I love most in possible lethal danger and you expect me not to worry? Now, what has happened to them?"

Understanding dawned on Jailil's face. He shook his head. "You thought Thranduil or Legolas—? I see."

Jailil moved aside, explaining with a calm expression, "Landion wants you."

Harune's eyes opened wide. He grabbed a hold of the bedpost the steady himself, his usually calm demeanor rattled. "What?"

Healer Jailil gestured to Landion's bed with a tip of his head. Harune's eyes took in the shaking form buried beneath the blankets and his ears picked up small whimpers. His shaken appearance disappeared as he sat down on the edge of Landion's bed, his mind returning to a similar situation occurring between Thranduil and Legolas some time ago.

"Landion?" Harune said softly. He reached down and folded the blankets down, revealing the elfling's tearstained face.

Landion looked up at Harune. Burying his face in the mattress again, he mumbled, "No, it is all right. You can leave. You do not want me. I am nothing but an unwanted leaf on a tree."

"Oh, Landion, that is not true," Harune said in distress. "I was surprised, that is all. I am here to comfort you. It never occurred to me you cared for my presence."

"But I do," Landion mumbled, dragging himself into Harune's lap. "Please stay with me?"

Harune wrapped his arms around Landion and slid into the bed. "Of course I will. Sleep now, and be comforted knowing you are not alone."

"I will be one day," Landion said softly as he closed his eyes and fell into his worst nightmare; dreaming about being a ward of the castle, unwanted and unloved.

Harune said nothing as he reached down to pull up the blankets. Healer Jailil blew out the candle. His footsteps walked out of the room. Harune leaned back into the pillows, feeling Landion clasped to his chest as he thought about the elfling's words.

* * *

Landion yawned and opened his eyes. He shifted, uncurling his body as he wriggled out of Harune's arms and stretched. He jumped as he saw Harune was awake, looking at him.

"You are awake," Landion said. "Good morning."

"Good morning," Harune replied. He slid his arm across the bed to touch Landion's cheek with his fingers. "I will come back at dusk."

"Must you leave?" Landion asked in dismay.

"Yes," said Harune. "I have work to do." He lifted the blankets and slid out of bed.

Landion watched Harune leave. His dismal thoughts returned as he thought of being a ward of the castle. Harune was nice to come and be with him at night but that would all end once he was healed. Harune did not care for him any more then Healer Jailil did. No one cared for him like naneth. No one. He was alone. Misery overcoming him, he buried his face in the pillows and sobbed, dreading the day he would be fully healed.

* * *

Landion dangled his legs off the bed, staring at the floor.

"I would think you would be happy to be able to leave bed," Thranduil said, watching him.

Landion managed a small smile. "I am thrilled . . ."

In truth, he was miserable. For this was the day when he really would become a ward of the castle. Healer Jailil would take him to the room he would live in alone for the rest of his life, without an ada or naneth. A prison cell of misery and pity.

Landion heard an impatient cough and took Healer Jailil's hand with an unhappy sigh. He allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. Knowing he could not refuse, he walked around the room.

"Do you feel any pain?" Healer Jailil asked, watching him keenly.

"None at all," Landion lied. His heart ached in his chest, bleeding within him.

"I wish I could leave bed," Legolas said mournfully, watching from beside his father.

"You have yet to recover from your wounds," Healer Jailil said, glancing at the elfling.

"But I feel fine," Legolas insisted.

"You will not, if you leave bed," Healer Jailil said disparagingly. He took Landion by the hand and led him from the room, smiling down at the drooping head of the elfling.

"This will be your room," Healer Jailil said, opening a door at the end of the hall. He did no say "forever" but Landion felt the word echoing in his heart. He pulled his hand out of Healer Jailil's and looked at the plain room before him, wondering how many other unwanted elflings had slept in the bed over the years.

"Thank you," Landion said, forcing out the words and hoping his voice would stay whole.

Healer Jailil's smile faltered at the elfling's forlorn voice. Thinking it best to leave Landion alone for a few minutes, he retreated quietly and shut the door. He nodded to Harune as he passed the elf in the hall.

Harune dipped his head as he entered Thranduil's room. his son looked up from the bed, shifting beneath the blankets, his eyes looking restless.

"I know you want to leave bed," Harune said unnecessarily. "In fact, I wish you could leave bed. What a bother it is to do all your work!"

Thranduil knew his father was joking but he did not find it funny. "I am afraid, ada, I must agree with Legolas. I feel fine but I am confined to a prison of bed and sheets!"

"You must be restless beyond measure," Harune said, sitting down beside Legolas and using his fingers to tuck a stray strand of Legolas's hair behind his delicate ear.

Legolas squirmed. "I am. And ada has been grumbling all day now."

Harune smiled. "We must be patient and trust in Healer Jailil's judgment," he said, looking over Legolas's head at his son.

"And why must his judgment allow Landion out of bed and not us?" Legolas complained, climbing into Harune's lap.

"Well, you were more injured then him," Harune said, briefly, wondering how Landion fared. "Besides, even once you do leave bed, you will not be able to run around. You will have to take it slow."

Thranduil muttered in disgust and leaned his head back against the headboard. Harune grinned pityingly, "I know how much you are suffering, ion nin, but it will soon be over, and we can think of the future with joy instead of the darkness of the past."

Thranduil raised his head, "Indeed, ada, every little ache I feel for the rest of my life will remind me of Lord Katar."

Harune's eyebrows shot up. "Pessimism is not a good medicine."

"Could you fetch me a book?" Legolas asked.

"Yes, and you might fetch me some paperwork from my office," Thranduil cut in. "I am sure it must be piling up to a dreadful height."

"I will ask Healer Jailil if you are allowed to expend your eyes reading," Harune replied, planting a kiss on the back of Legolas's head. Legolas slid out of his lap and sat on the bed, his hands clasped. Harune blew a kiss to Thranduil as he walked out of the room. He thought his son must be more then restless if he would be happy doing paperwork to keep him busy!

As he walked up the hall, a slight frown came to his face. He stopped and listened, his ears pricking up. He thought . . . yes, he heard someone crying. His kind heart pierced by the pitiful sound, he followed it to a door. Tilting his head to one side, he listened. He had heard Landion crying many times during the time he had spent with the elfling and he definitely recognized it now. He pushed open the door and walked into the small, plain room. It was furnished with a bed, a small table, and a chest of draws. Lying across the bed, tears streaming down his cheeks, was Landion.

"What is the matter?" Harune asked. "Are you not happy to be healed?"

Landion sniffed and shook his head.

"Why not?" Harune asked, coming to sit down on the bed. "Would you like to tell me about it?"

Landion wiped his eyes. "I do not want to be alone."

"You will not be alone, Landion," Harune said, stroking the elfling's black hair.

"But I will be, now that I am a ward of the castle," Landion said, a tear welling up in one eye. "I have no one; no parents, no family . . . _no one_!"

Harune looked down at Landion with a strange light in his eyes but the elfling's face was buried in the pillow bunched in his hands and he did not see it.

"I do not want to be alone!" Landion wailed. "I am so scared . . ."

"I promise you will be happy," Harune said, his fingers making soothing circles on Landion's back.

"No," Landion sobbed.

"You were happy before," Harune said. "While you were healing."

"But I was not alone then," Landion said. "I had—" He stopped, afraid to say the rest for fear it was now a lie, but Harune sensed the words hanging on the tip of his tongue. _I had you_.

Slowly the elf rose to his feet, suddenly needing the presence of his son. Brushing his hand over Landion's head one last time, he slipped out of the room. Leaving the door open, he hurried back down the hall.

"Where is my book?" Legolas demanded as Harune entered his sight.

"I forgot to ask if you can read," Harune apologized. "I am sorry."

Thranduil's fingers stopped their progression down Legolas's head. His father never forgot anything. Never. He looked at his father with curiosity, searching for something out of the ordinary. Harune looked agitated, and his eyes were apprehensive, even a little bit fearful. Thranduil bit his lip, feeling a small thrill in his heart. What was Harune afraid of?


	16. Undeserving

**MaNY1001: It seems appropriate to thank you here again. Thank you so much for reading. I am so happy I managed to induce some confusion in you.**

* * *

"Ada?" Thranduil asked.

Harune jumped nervously. "Yes?"

"Is there something you need to tell me?" Thranduil asked, suspicious of Harune's reaction.

"Not at all," Harune said quickly. Then he admitted, "Yes."

Thranduil made a small gesture with his hands. "Well? What is it?"

"It is rather difficult to explain," Harune began.

Thranduil raised his eyebrows. "Why not boil it all down into one sentence and not worry about the consequences? You have known me all your life so this should not be difficult."

"I intend to adopt Landion," Harune said, years of control allowing him to keep his voice level.

Thranduil frowned.

Harune rushed on, afraid Thranduil did not approve and panicked by the thought. "Of course, if he does not want me to, I will not force him—"

Thranduil held up a hand. "Wait, it was so difficult for you to tell me that which I already knew?"

"Knew?" said Harune, looking confused.

"I am not blind, you know," Thranduil said with an injured air. "I have watched and observed all these past months while you have been in here with Landion. Surely you do not expect me to miss all the sure signs when I have been through the exact same thing with Legolas?" He hugged his son to him.

"That was different," Harune argued.

"But the signs are the same," Thranduil said. He paused before asking, "Does he know?"

"Landion? I-I have not asked him yet. I thought I would make sure you had no objection first."

"And why would I object to a little brother?" Thranduil asked, one eyebrow arched in mock curiosity.

"He would be my uncle," Legolas interrupted, looking half-horrified at the idea.

Thranduil's face spilt into a grin. "Yes, he would . . . valar, what a laugh!"

Harune waited for Thranduil to stop chuckling. As his son's calm expression returned, Thranduil gestured toward the door, "Well, what are you still in here for? Have you suddenly lost your head? Go ask him!"

As Harune's feet carried him reluctantly toward the door, he heard Thranduil's thoughtful voice saying, "Legolas, you really should not interrupt."

Harune found himself dreading Landion's reaction. The short distance to Landion's room seemed long, he took it so slowly. He did not know why he was afraid; he never was. But rejection was the hardest wound a heart could bear . . . he never would have expected this small task to seem so daunting.

At the open door to Landion's room, Harune glanced self-consciously up and down the empty hallway before he crept into the room, feeling like an invader for unknown reasons.

"Landion," Harune said.

Landion looked up at him from the bed, his tears dried into his cheeks. His eyes were still wet but the flow of tears had stopped at least. The pillow under his cheek was dry but the damp one lay on the floor. He was curled on the bed, his face pale with misery, his small heart unable to accept the long life of loneliness he saw stretched out before him like a carpet with an end he could never reach, no matter how fast he ran. Behind his eyes swirled the dreaded images of abandonment and rejection.

Harune sat down beside the elfling and stretched out his arms, "Will you be my son?"

Landion's mouth fell open, the words he had been about to utter dying unspoken. For a minute his eyes lit up with joy but then darkness rolled over the light. Landion's lips trembled as he shook his head. How he wanted to throw himself into the warm embrace and accept his new father but . . . he could not. Tears filled his eyes as Harune stared at him in shock. His heart bled; he had ruined his only chance. Tumbling from the bed, he fled from the room.

Landion panicked as he saw Healer Jailil coming toward him and Harune emerging from the room behind him. He darted through the closest door and slammed it shut, leaning against it and panting. He cringed as Thranduil and Legolas both looked at him in surprise.

"S-sorry," Landion stammered, his mind awhirl with confusion. He could not sort anything about; he wanted to drop down and give in to his frustration and fear.

"What is wrong?" Thranduil asked.

Landion wanted to tell him so badly but he shook his head, glancing at Legolas.

"Shall I leave the room?" Legolas asked tactfully. Without waiting for an answer, he sprang out of bed and bounded for the door. Flinging it open, he charged out into the hall, yelling, "Freedom!"

From down the hall came Healer Jailil's roar of rage.

"I cannot," Landion blurted.

"Cannot what?" Thranduil patted the bed beside him. Landion came slowly, climbing up next to him with hesitance. His lips trembled and he flung his arms around Thranduil, burying his face in his chest. He felt Thranduil's fingers in his hair, undoing the knots.

"I cannot be his son."

"Do you want to?" Thranduil asked gently.

Landion nodded. "I want to with all my heart but I do not deserve him."

"Why not?" Thranduil questioned in surprise.

"Because—because I almost killed the people he loves most: you and Legolas. I cannot let him love me after what I did to you. It does not feel right. I feel ashamed of what I did, and I can never be forgiven. I am sorry." The elfling's body shook with grief and shame, trembling against Thranduil's body.

"Now, that is not true," Thranduil said, his voice soft. "Everything you blame yourself for is the fault of Lord Katar, not you. Harune loves you, Landion, and he loves you regardless of anything you may think you have done. But you must not blame yourself for what happened to us. You deserve his love."

Landion shook his head. "Why?"

"Because you have born with courage and bravery the events that have cut apart your life. Now let Harune sew it back together."

Landion swallowed, thinking about Thranduil's reasoning.

"Besides," Thranduil added, "one does not need to deserve love to receive it. Love is not earned, Landion."

"What is it then?"

"It is always there," Thranduil said, kissing Landion's sweaty forehead. "Just like I am here for Legolas and Harune will be for you."

Landion pulled away from Thranduil as Healer Jailil marched into the room, holding Legolas tight by the wrist. Legolas grinned at his father. "I made it out of the healing wing before he caught me."

"Into bed, young elfling, and none of your cheek," Jailil said firmly. "You need rest and it is my job to see you get it! If you leave bed one more time, I will be forced to take out restraints. Do you hear me?"

Chastened by Healer Jailil's tone, Legolas climbed into bed and curled against his father for protection. Landion ran out the door before the Healer could question him. Casting a last frown at Legolas, Healer Jailil left the room, shutting the door with a bang.


	17. Searching for Harune

Landion peeked into the room Healer Jailil had given him, wondering if Harune was in it. He glanced down the hall, hastening into the shadows as he saw Healer Jailil coming out of Thranduil's room, but the elf was walking in the opposite direction, toward his office. Landion wondered where Harune would be for his room was empty.

One of the healer apprentices was coming down the hall toward him, her arms full of papers and her face flustered.

"Excuse me," Landion said meekly. "But have you seen Harune?"

The elf looked at him with impatience. "Yes, he passed me a while back, and what a mess he made of my papers!"

"Where was he going?" Landion called as the elf hurried on her way.

"How should I know?" came the sharp reply.

Landion's head drooped. After a moment, he straightened up and decided to follow the direction Harune had gone in. The hall forked left and right at the end, the entrance to both ways flanked by armed guards.

"Have you seen Harune?" Landion asked hopefully, feeling shy under the gaze of the trained Mirkwood warriors.

"He passed us a few minutes back," said one guard, nodding his head in the direction of the left hallway. "And what a state he was in. I wonder if the King is all right?"

Landion called his thanks as he ran down the passageway, leaving the guard to his thoughts. By asking the guards he passed, he found himself staring at the sturdy oak door leading into Harune's chambers. He looked at it with hesitation, not sure he could face Harune or the door, for that matter. The short hall he stood in was empty and the guards usually on duty at its end were off duty, enjoying a vacation in the kitchen, eating fine bread and wine so there was no one to see the shy elfling.

Landion swallowed. Stepping up to the door, he knocked. Tempted to flee as soon as he heard footsteps inside the room, he clenched his fists and stood rock still. The door opened inward and Harune looked out, dressed in his usual soft, long robes. He stopped and stared at Landion. His eyes seemed a little red, and his face seemed pale.

"I-I," Landion stammered, feeling guilty for making Harune cry. He felt tears welling up in his eyes, and he flung himself against Harune. He wrapped his arms around Harune's waist and buried his face in the cloth of his robe. It took him a few seconds to regain his broken breath and he murmured, "I will be your son if you will be my father. Will you?" He looked up at Harune, still holding tight to him.

Harune's face softened into a smile and his eyes twinkled. He knelt down and pulled Landion into a tight hug. "I would be more then happy to be your father."

Landion rested his head on Harune's shoulder, enjoying the embrace. Harune's—his father's—gentle hands ran over his hair and pulled him close again. Harune pulled away after a minute only to plant kisses with smiling lips all over his son's face.

Landion giggled.

"You can sleep with me tonight," Harune said. Then he quickly amended, "Do you want to sleep with me tonight?"

Landion nodded, his eyes shining at the thought of being snuggled and cuddled. He leaned back into Harune's embrace.

"We will have to fix you up a room," Harune said thoughtfully, rubbing Landion's back. "Luckily, we have plenty off this hall so we will not be far apart."

"I never want to be apart," Landion murmured.

"Neither do I," Harune agreed.

The day came to a close quickly and Landion found himself snuggled in Harune's arms, covered in warm blankets. The moonlight shone through a gap in the curtains, and Harune's fingers stroked his hair.

"Harune?" Landion said after a long silence.

"You can call me ada now," Harune said.

Landion squirmed. He turned his head to look into Harune's eyes. Uncomfortably he said, "I-I want to but I cannot."

"Why not?" Harune asked in surprise.

"I had an ada a long time ago," Landion explained, his voice soft with memory. "But he died. It took me a long time to understand he was gone forever . . . he died when I was only seven years old. He was one of the palace guards and he was gone from home all day. He would come back in the evening and we would play and roll on the floor and read books. After he died, the word ada died with him . . . I am truly sorry I cannot call you ada."

Harune patted Landion's cheek. "It is all right, ion nin, I understand. You sleep now. After this long day, you must be tired."

"Perhaps the word will come back to life," Landion murmured, rolling onto one side and nuzzling against Harune.

"Perhaps it will," Harune agreed.


	18. Breathing Fresh Air

Thranduil yawned as he opened his eyes. He shifted, pulling his arm out from under Legolas's head. He rubbed the numbness out of his arm before sitting up and squinting into the bright light streaming into the room.

"I am glad to see you awake," Healer Jailil said drily from the door. "I have excellent news; this day I pronounce you fit to leave bed."

Legolas jerked awake and flung off the blankets, exclaiming, "Really? I can? I really can?"

"Yes, Legolas," said the Healer with a suffering look.

As Legolas prepared to bolt from the bed, Healer Jailil presented the catch, "But there will be no running or shouting. You need to rest and grow accustomed to your own two feet again before you can exert your energy on things beside healing."

Legolas's face fell.

Thranduil stepped out of bed; stretching his cramped muscles, glad to get the blood flowing in his legs again.

"I permit you to take short walks," Healer Jailil said. "But you must sit down if you feel tired. And you can, of course, take a bath and tidy up out of your wretched state. I feel safe allowing you to sleep in your rooms from now on."

Thranduil shot the elf a glare. "It is because of you I find myself in this state! Come, Legolas, I cannot wait to pick up my comb again!"

"I wonder if it is dusty?" Legolas said thoughtfully. He took his father's hand and skipped out of the room with the boundless well of energy he felt within him.

Thranduil looked with pleasure at the sight of his bedchamber as he walked through the door. Harune had kept it dusted and tidy. Humming a tune, he proceeded to change into clean robes and comb his hair. Legolas fidgeted while his father worked through the tangle his hair had become.

"Where is daerada?" Legolas asked. He added, "Ow!" to a jerk at his hair.

"He and Landion are most likely having fun together," Thranduil answered.

Legolas dangled his legs over the chair. "Ow. Where do you think he is?"

Thranduil put down the comb. "I have no idea but I wish to see the trees. Will you come with me?" He held out his hand.

Legolas grabbed it. "Yes!"

Father and son were halfway down the hall when the door to Harune's room flew open and the bedraggled occupant demanded, "Wait! We will come with you."

Thranduil eyed his father's untidy nightclothes and disheveled hair. Beyond the door, he could see Landion sitting on the bed in an equally messy state, a huge grin on his face. He smiled drily. "You might want to consider changing first."

Harune held up a finger, "I intend to. One minute." The door banged.

Thranduil thought with a surge of satisfaction that Harune seemed in high spirits and very happy. When the door opened a few minutes later, he thought Landion, holding onto Harune's hand, looked happy to. His cheeks were rosy and his eyes bright. Harune was tying back his hair, a pin between his teeth. Sticking the pin into place, he said, "I am ready."

Restored to his usual neat appearance, Harune followed Thranduil down the hall, looking from Thranduil's tall, regal form to the happy, slender elfling walking beside him with a bright smile on his face.

As the four walked out into the sun, Thranduil breathed in the fresh air, acknowledging the greetings of the guards flanking the palace exit. Crossing over the stone bridge leading over the river, he walked into the forest on the winding path.

"My lord, I am beyond relieved to see you looking so well," Hyrondal said, coming toward Thranduil with open arms.

Thranduil smiled, accepting the embrace. "I am feel well indeed, and will soon be even better."

Hyrondal peered at Legolas with a sincere face before he grinned and ruffled Legolas's hair. "And no doubt you will be back to causing mischief soon to, eh?"

"Maybe," Legolas said. He knew he was too shy to play tricks on the guards. Being chased frightened him, reminding him of old times with Lord Katar. But Hyrondal liked to tease him because he had naughty eyes. At least, Hyrondal _said_ he did.

"I heard the news," Hyrondal continued, turning to Harune.

"Now I wonder who could have told you already?" Harune said with raised eyebrows.

"It was Healer Jailil," Hyrondal said. "We had a drink last night; he needed cheering up. Anyway, may I offer you my most hearty congratulations?"

"Certainly," said Harune. He smiled down at Landion.

"Why are you so jolly today?" Thranduil asked his Captain of the Guard suspiciously.

"Ah, many great things have happened today. You are well, Harune has a new son, Landion is happy, and Talion has completed his training. It is always inspiring when a trainee completes their training."

"Talion?" said Thranduil. "I cannot place the name."

"He was the one who found Legolas in the forest," Hyrondal supplied helpfully. "After he had run away from Lord Katar. He wanted to be a scout, you see, so I sent him on borderland patrols. He has good eyes and he is not too bad with a knife. I must be off now; I am joining my fellow commanders for a strong celebratory drink. Would not want you to see me drunk!"

Grinning, Hyrondal jogged away with a last wave at the royal family.

Thranduil drew in a deep breath of forest air, enjoying the smells of trees and earth and moss. It was good to be back on his feet again, and able to enjoy the beauty of his homeland. He wrapped an arm around Legolas's shoulders and gave his son a squeeze.


	19. Happy Days

Thranduil leaned back in his armchair, staring into the flames flickering in the hearth. Legolas sat at his feet, trying to teach Landion how to play one of his favorite board games. Harune sat across from him, his hands folded in his lap, looking down at his young son with a small smile.

As Thranduil's eyes shifted to his father, Harune's head came up.

"Are you feeling all right?" Harune asked.

"Yes," Thranduil answered.

Harune smiled. "I am glad you survived Lord Katar's cruelty. Without you, my world is not whole."

"I feel the same," Thranduil said. "What will you do about your visit to the Iron Hills to see your daughter?"

"I will have to wait to travel to see her family until I feel safe taking Landion with me," Harune said. "And if he does not want to come, I feel perfectly all right leaving him with you. But right now I am not ready or willing to leave him."

Thranduil nodded.

"Of course, I could ask her and her husband and children to come here," Harune added, as if struck by a bolt of brilliance.

"I am not sure if I want dwarves invading my realm quite yet," Thranduil said.

"The dwarves of the Iron Hills let me invade them," Harune pointed out. "It is only fair to return the favor. Besides, it will only be for a few months. But I will wait for your consent."

"I was joking," Thranduil said.

"You were?" Harune said in mock surprise.

Thranduil dropped the subject as Legolas scraped himself off the floor and clambered into his lap.

"Who won?" Thranduil asked.

"Nobody," said Legolas with a yawn. "We are both tired." He rested his head on Thranduil's chest.

"You have to stay awake a little longer, ion nin," Thranduil said, giving his son a little shake. "I cannot carry anything heavy until Healer Jailil says I may, and you are no exception. I wish I could."

Legolas yawned again as he slid out of his father's lap. Thranduil stood up and followed Legolas toward the door. He glanced over his shoulder at Harune, stroking Landion's dark hair, and said, "Goodnight."

Harune smiled and Landion murmured something as his big brother and nephew walked out the door.

"Can I sleep here?" Landion asked drowsily.

"Yes," said Harune. "I can carry you to bed."

Landion sighed; a small sigh of happiness. "I love you . . . ada."

Harune's breath caught in his throat and a tear of joy trickled down his cheek. "I love you, Landion, so much."

And, in the warmth of a big, warm bed, covered in blankets of happiness, another father and son were saying the exact same thing.


	20. Author's Note

**Sniffs. Yes, this is the end, but the next in the Nin Chronicles will be up soon, featuring a few new favorites known as Elrohir and Elladan! It will take me some time to begin writing it because I am switching my attention back to Benders, writing the third in the series, known as Web of Lies.  
**

 **To all of you reading this now, and to those who have read the whole story and shared their opinions and thoughts, I thank you from the bottom of my heart for sharing the story with me. Thank you so very, very much.**

 **A special thank you to both Me And Not You 1001 and Erelil Morningstar for the time they took to read the story and share their reactions with me; I found your feedback and thoughts very helpful. Thank you both.**


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